There is a beautiful little boy with big blue eyes dying just a few short miles from my home tonight and his mother's words are pulsating in my head. Ronan Thompson is three years old with Stage 4 Neuroblastoma, a childhood cancer. Ronan is at Ryan House, a hospice for children, just north of St. Joseph's hospital, in walking distance from my house. His mother wrote in her blog yesterday "He gave me the biggest smile today and told me that he loved me to the moon and back. So what if he cannot walk anymore because his legs hurt so badly. I am his mom, I can fix anything. That is my job and I refuse to fail." Her pain is so raw, that it's almost unreadable. "Call the f'ing psych ward because that's where I am going to end up if this all goes down the way everyone thinks it is going to." The truth is, it is unknown for how much longer her son will survive.
I don't know this family, but I have friends who do. I felt an immediate connection to the mother once I read her blog. She is frank, she is honest and she has no fear of cursing. She has documented every detail in Ronan's diagnosis and treatment, right up to this moment where she is quite visibly, cracking. I don't know a mother who wouldn't. It hurts to be a bystander, to be in the same city, with something so incredibly horrific happening just down the street.
From the first day of my own diagnosis, I said one thing, "Thank God this is happening to me, and not to one of my kids." I feel almost bad, like I had it easy compared to this family. I think I cried harder today reading Ronan's blog, than I did for myself over the past year.
If you have the time and a big box of tissues near, I invite you to visit www.rockstarronan.com. Cancer sucks and childhood cancer brings the unthinkable to a whole new level. Cancer awareness raises money and money finds cures. Thank you for supporting me by reading my blog, and in turn, all families in crisis due to this insipid disease.